


Flipping Tables

by selinipainter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, meets a bookshop au (a little??), superhero au (Sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5484194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selinipainter/pseuds/selinipainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aka the first time Bellamy Blake loses an argument with Clarke Griffin. It would not be the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flipping Tables

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glowinghorizons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/gifts).



They were all the same, Clarke decided that morning. All of them, the same in their unconscious quest of how to kill Clarke Griffin, slowly and painfully. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say they had a compulsion layered over them by Blake. He might as well get an award for it, as he had perfected the art of pissing her off without even being present now. It had escalated beyond the daily annoyance of their morning debates.

Correction, most mornings at least. Customers couldn’t help being stupid, it just seemed that the stupidity was more prevalent today.

(False assumption. Bellamy Blake would have probably gone on record to say he couldn’t be arsed about ruining the princess’s day and secondly, compulsion? Really, what a lame power that would have been. But Bellamy was not there to defend himself from such slander, dealing with the new supervillain of the day tended to absorb one’s attention.

He would also have gone on record to say that there was nothing more evil than a villain who chose to wage mayhem at ungodly hours of the morning.)

“No, miss. There is no such thing as books for girls and for boys,” she said, trying to smile at the harried lady. It comes off more as a grimace. Books were just books, goddammit. She couldn’t help feeling a little on edge today, more like a sense of foreboding. Nothing to do with missing her daily morning heated discussions on the street with Blake, none at all. 

(For posterity’s sake, if one asked Raven how heated the discussions tend to get, she’d likely tell you if they were calling it discussions, it’d be about the same as saying a lake was a somewhat large puddle.)

Clarke ushered the last of the customers out before the lunch hour crowd emerged. She turned back, brewed a cup of tea in the little kitchenette. She'd rather prefer coffee, but given how much of it she already had (three before breakfast and one before work), it'd likely be the death of her.

The crash of glass out front made her drop her own.

The sight of dark curls and a green mask on the floor made her want to scream. What does make her actually scream, is the fact that some of her books are on fire. On _fire_. She had been so careful with the shop, and now this. Fucking superheroes, always creating a mess behind them.

“For the love of god, take your superhero-ing elsewhere!”

The guy picked himself out of the glass, wincing a little. “Sorry, but some of us can’t help where the fight goes.”

“You can help where you are thrown, asshole. You got superpowers yeah? Use them then,” she snatched the extinguisher beside the counter and dowsed the fire. Well, at least there’s insurance. Hopefully.

“Oh, wow, let’s try and use my incredible strength to predict where I am going to land,” he said, gesturing wildly. His dark eyes seemed familiar, the gestures even more so. Clarke squinted a little, trying to place him.

“Well, you might want to work on being able to use that strength properly at least, since you lost your villain and _damaged my shop_. Door’s right the way you came in so you can leave now and start practicing on it.”

She really hoped he would leave, because they are starting to draw a crowd. That’s the last thing she needs, a spectacle. But that’s what she gets. Murder is off the books now since there’s too many witnesses.

“It’s collateral damage, princess. Can’t be helped but I bet you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

She smiled at that, stepping closer to him until she was in his space. She half wants to sink her fingers into the tangle of curls as she leaned into him. But, it'd be a shame to ruin it as she said lowly, “Wouldn’t I, Blake?”

There’s a flame flickering in her palms, where only he could see.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a Secret Santa gift for dreamingundone on tumblr. I really hope you like it! 
> 
> (I am sorry if this is shit ack, I haven't written in months and well, I think it shows. I did many variations with the prompts, but decided to go with a sort of happy take since this is meant to be a Christmas gift after all.)
> 
> Merry Christmas, happy holidays and a happy new year to all!


End file.
